


Sugarbaby

by Zhie



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Attempted Suicide, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family Secrets, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:34:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28485444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhie/pseuds/Zhie
Summary: At the end of the semester, Amarië and Finrod get ready to spend some well-deserved R&R at home--until they discover that their best friend has been keeping secrets. [Chronologically occurs prior to The Cottage of Lost Gay; can be enjoyed stand-alone.]Not enough Bunniverse for you on AO3? Drop by Discord's hottest new nightclub, Bunniverse.  This club has everything -- purple plot bunnies, Elves who dress like peacocks, mixed drinks named after Feanor’s bad decisions, a guy named Teleporno who thinks he’s the bouncer but is just there for people coming in read his nametag. Fall down the purple rabbit hole at https://discord.gg/CHqptmUnTp
Relationships: Amarië/Edrahil, Amarië/Edrahil/Finrod Felagund | Findaráto, Amarië/Finrod Felagund | Findaráto, Edrahil/Finrod Felagund | Findaráto
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13
Collections: Screw Yule 2021





	Sugarbaby

**Author's Note:**

> This was not an anticipated path for Bunniverse, but writing Werewelves and having other people read it and come up with the name 'Sugarbaby' for Edrahil just stuck with me, and this happened. This story occurs prior to The Cottage of Lost Gay and ties into things that happen in Peacock. Thank you to Narvaeril for beta reading and to Shotgun and Miro for the inspiration.

For several weeks in a row, Amarië noticed something odd each night that she and Finrod left the school for their on-campus residence--always, there was a light in the window of the room that Edrahil used as his office. While it was not entirely unusual for some of the teachers to stay late and work on projects or meet with students, for Edrahil to stay so late so many nights was quite out of the ordinary -- especially since he was always the first person on campus each morning. On the last day of the term, Amarië paused outside of the closed door and rocked back and forth on her feet until Finrod came down the hallway and tilted his head when he stopped beside her. She nodded in the direction of the closed door, and her husband, knowing the concerns she had been voicing to him, knocked.

“Enter.”

Finrod turned the knob and pushed the door open. “Good evening, Enedrion,” said Finrod.

Edrahil flinched. “Good evening. Heading home?”

Amarië stepped inside the room and nodded, and slowly scanned the scene as Finrod leaned against the doorway. “We were going to stop somewhere to have supper before we head home. We already packed last night.” Home meant Tirion, and their estate. It meant waking up late and going for impromptu rides and relaxation in private without the responsibility of hundreds of youth who attended the school until the next term. Finrod frowned and looked at the couch, where rumpled sheets and an extra pillow made it obvious it had been slept on for many nights. “Were you planning to have to stay overnight to finish grading?” he asked.

Edrahil, who had been sitting at his desk at the window, sighed and swiveled his chair around. It was a creaky old wooden thing with a worn velvet cushion as a seat, some project from a past student most likely, but not something that had caught on in Tirion proper. Most people preferred good, sturdy chairs with high backs and imposing arms, upholstered in leather if they were seated at a desk, and so Edrahil had claimed the relic without dispute from anyone. He drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair as Amarië walked around the crates of clothing and basic belongings stacked in the room. “You may as well know; you might even hear once you reach town.”

“What happened?” asked Finrod as he, too, looked around.

“To make a long and painful story short, my wife and I are no longer wed. I am here because...I had nowhere else to be. I have been searching for an alternate place to go; I hope you are not upset. I did not want to miss the end of the term.” Edrahil swallowed hard. “I can move everything out of here by tomorrow. I did not mean to abuse my station.”

“No, my friend, no.” Finrod motioned around. “This is your home, too. You are more than welcome to stay as long as you like. I daresay, no one will bother you with the term finished.” 

Edrahil pressed his hands together and bowed slightly in his seat to Finrod. “It is much appreciated. I will, of course, not abuse this leniency.”

Amarië and Finrod looked at each other as Edrahil’s chair swiveled and squeaked. There were many questions to be answered, and many more to be asked, but there was only one important question to ask at that moment. “Would you like to come with us?” asked Finrod.

“Oh…” Edrahil shrugged. “You would be going into Tirion?”

“More than likely,” said Finrod. 

Edrahil shook his head. “Thank you, no. It is appreciated.”

Finrod and Amarië were only a few steps down the hallway when Amarië squeezed Finrod’s hand. “Yes,” Finrod said without question, without prompting, and Amarië kissed the side of his neck and nuzzled against him. 

“I wish I had asked him what was going on weeks ago when I first saw him staying so late,” fretted Amarië. 

“Me, too, but we were all so busy.” Finrod stopped in his tracks. He squeezed Amarië’s hand. “I am losing my appetite, knowing he is up there all alone.”

“I am sure we can eat at home--we could probably fit most of his things into the carriage with ours. There is spare room at the house, and I know both of us would enjoy more time with him,” reasoned Amarië. “We have to go get him.”

Back to the office they went, and this time when they were hesitantly bidden to enter, Finrod sat down on the couch. Amarië approached their confused and now tense colleague and placed her hand upon his shoulder. It only took a single squeeze for Edrahil to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Enedrion, I can see you are hurting. Felagund and I would feel just terrible if we left you here by yourself tonight.”

“You are our dearest friend,” Felagund said with complete sincerity. “We both love you very much. It would be an honor for us to have you come to our home. For now, there is a bedroom there which you may use. Our son never visits for overnight stays, and yet we keep the room set up as if he might. You are more than welcome to it, my friend.”

“You have to leave me here,” Edrahil said shakily. “I am sorry.”

“We will do no such thing, Enedrion,” Amarië said gently. “If you are staying here, then, we shall all stay. I can help you with the grading,” she offered, and she went to fetch a chair.

“Please stop calling me by that. That name is forbidden to me,” said Edrahil.

Finrod moved to the end of the couch closest to Edrahil. “What happened, my friend? I have never seen you under such distress-and much happened to you which would warrant you to have such feelings in times we shared of old. You have been one of the calmest people I know. Often, you have eased my mind with your counsel. Please, let us ease your burden.”

“It is too late for that,” said Edrahil quietly. “I failed as a son and as a husband. My wife had taken a lover, right under my nose. When I confronted her, she accused me of infidelity of the heart before my parents, and I had no defense for the accusation. I was tricked. I attended a family gathering with thoughts that we were to have a pleasant meal. Instead, I was ambushed.”

“By your family?” questioned Finrod.

Amarië looked to Finrod in horror as Edrahil bowed his head and wept. “I am divorced and disowned and disgraced. I am cast away. Garbage! No better than garbage.”

“Ened--Edrahil, how can you say such things? You are greatly valued and greatly loved,” Finrod said gently. He came closer and sat upon the floor before Edrahil so that he could take hold of his hands. “You are not garbage. You are dear to us.” Edrahil’s hands felt cold, and Finrod tried to warm them in his own.

Edrahil watched as Finrod worked, eyelids drooping. “Not as dear as you are to me, my King. My Queen,” he added as he looked to Amarië beside him.

Amarië placed an arm around Edrahil. “Please. Come home with us, Edrahil. We can talk more if you like, or, not, if you prefer. I can gather the work you still need to do.”

“There is no work to be done.” Edrahil looked to a table at the center of the room. Several folders were neatly stacked there. “I finished hours ago.” He bowed his head. “I am sorry. I am so sorry. I hope you can forgive me someday. I thought you had both gone.”

“What were you...working on over here?” Amarië slid away after giving her husband a worried look.

“Edrahil, I am glad we returned. This is a great burden to you, and we want to--”

“Felagund.” Amarië’s voice was sharp, and alarmed.

“--help.” Finrod looked up to see Amarië holding a sheet of paper, her face pale.

“She found it,” mumbled Edrahil.

Finrod stood up numbly and joined Amarië at the window. He only needed to read a few words to realize what had been found. Though he had never seen a suicide letter, he was sad that he could tell one when he saw it. “Edrahil, please listen to me. Your situation might seem dire right now, but I assure you, it will get better. The pain will be less as the days go on. You have many friends who appreciate you and love you. Please. Come with us. We are both excellent listeners, and we care so much about you.” Another look at the note caused Finrod’s flesh to raise up and he shivered. 

Edrahil silently slumped in his chair. After a moment, he said softly, “It would only be a matter of time before I feel this way again. I would only be deluding myself.”

“That is not true,” countered Amarië. “What Felagund says is honest. We love you.”

Edrahil rubbed his head with trembling hands. “Not the way I love you,” he replied.

Amarië glanced sideways at her husband. She licked her lips and asked, “How do you love me, Edrahil?”

“I have always loved you,” he whispered. Tears glistened in his eyes. “I loved you before your husband was born.” He squeezed his eyes shut and the droplets escaped and ran down his cheeks. “I put it all in the letter. I hope you can both forgive me someday.” 

Finrod gave Amarië’s wrist a squeeze and nodded in Edrahil’s direction as he took the half-finished letter from her. Amarië walked back and knelt down as she touched Edrahil’s face. “Then I am the accusation made against you,” she said sympathetically. 

“You were half of it.”

At the window, Finrod looked up from the letter he had gone back to reading. He dropped it onto the desk and came to join his wife at Edrahil’s knees. “Edrahil, I think we all have much to talk about. Please--come home with us. I promise you...it will get better. We will do everything in our power to make it better.”

Edrahil took in a shaky breath and shook his head. “It would be too much to ask,” he said. “I will not bring my shame upon either of you.”

Finrod felt Amarië nudge him when he did not answer back. Words seemed to carry little weight, and so Finrod spoke with action. He surged up from his position on the floor, placed his hands upon Edrahil’s cheeks, and kissed him. It was a deep and lingering kiss, and tears were streaming down Edrahil’s cheeks when they parted. Finrod detected a foul taste and scent, but said nothing of this. “There is no shame in love. You see, Edrahil, we have all been fools, for our hearts have long held a special love for you, which never we thought to be returned.” 

Then Edrahil wept, but not for joy. “It is too late. I already did it,” he sobbed. “I am the only fool here.”

“Did what?” asked Finrod, though he had suspicions. Amarië was already on her feet, back at the desk, opening drawers.

“I thought you were gone for the night. I knew you would come back tomorrow to check. You always check to make sure the children do not leave pets or anything behind. I was writing a letter for you to find. And...and I was going to go down by the river. To wait for it.” Edrahil cried harder. “I went to the apothecary. I told her I had a lame horse and wanted something to ease the pain and kill it kindly. She advised against it, but sold it to me anyhow.”

“Here!” Amarië held up a small packet from the local apothecary with instructions written upon it. “If this was enough for a horse, we do not have much time, I would wager. Felagund, we need to get it out of him. You need to rinse your mouth, too.”

“When did you take it?” demanded Finrod. He pulled the wastebasket over and spit into it several times.

“Just after you left,” Edrahil said. He was visibly shaking. “I only swallowed one of them; it hurt my throat on account of how large they are. I choked on the other one and it rolled under the bookshelf. Then you knocked.”

Finrod took the packet from Amarië and read it. “At least it does not dissolve quickly. There is a layer first to provide paralysis and sleep--your hands were cold. Are you feeling numb?”

“Yes,” Edrahil said, still sobbing. “My fingers and legs. I am sorry. I just meant for you to find me later and--”

“Shh. We are going to talk about this soon. We need to make you vomit first. We do not have time for a laxative, and I fear your body would not survive this poison long enough for that anyhow. It has to come out.” Finrod took Edrahil’s pulse, and then helped him to stand. “Can you walk?” he asked as Edrahil leaned heavily against him.

“Barely,” he said as he slid a foot forward. Amarië was immediately at his other side, and between her and Finrod, they managed to get Edrahil into one of the communal washrooms. 

“Get some towels, please,” said Finrod to Amarië. As she was leaving, he jerked open the door of a supply cabinet and grabbed for a small wooden box. Several other items fell out and bounced off objects before they rolled off. “Have you ever made yourself throw up before?” Edrahil shook his head. “I know you are are a healer, but you are not thinking clearly. Let me demonstrate. If you are unable, I will do it for you. You are going to take one of these,” said Finrod as he pulled a long swab from the box. A few fell and scattered on the floor. “And then, you are going to wet the end, and then while leaning over the basin here, put it into your mouth and try to get it as far back on one side or the other. You want to irritate your tonsils to get your reflex to gag enacted. You might have to do it a few times, but eventually, you want to be able to do this.” Finrod leaned over the basin and followed the steps he had just gone through. It took three tries, but he retched bile into the basin. After swishing water in his mouth, gargling it, and spitting, he held out a swab to Edrahil. “You can do this.”

Edrahil nodded. His every movement was filled with tremors, but he successfully vomited into the basin after a few tries. “That should do it, right?”

“We need to get the substance itself out as much as possible. You need to keep going,” said Finrod as he rubbed Edrahil’s back. “I am going to stay with you the whole time.”

Another swab was procured, and Amarië entered with the towels as Edrahil vomited a second time. As the third wave was projected into the basin from Edrahil, he spat, winced, and bowed his head. “I am sorry,” he whispered. His eyes were watery and his nose was running. He coughed and held onto the basin with one arm and held onto Finrod with the other.

“Shh...everything is going to be fine. You are doing great. It looks like a big piece of it actually came up that time. Just a few more so that we get everything out.”

Edrahil remained leaned over the basin for a moment. “I just pissed myself,” he admitted in a shameful whisper.

Finrod gave Edrahil a small hug. “That happens sometimes. It has to get worse before it gets better, but it will get better.”

The fourth and fifth time brought up more of the substance that had been swallowed, along with pinkish and brown bile. By the sixth time, it was mostly white and clear, with small streaks of pink and brown. The seventh time produced very little of anything. “My throat feels raw,” said Edrahil as he held onto the basin to keep himself standing.

“Here. Do not drink. Just use this to flush out anything left in your mouth.” Finrod held out a cup of water, and Edrahil did as instructed. “How are you feeling?”

“Scared. Cold. Disappointed in myself.” Edrahil appreciatively held onto Amarië as she came to hold him. “I need to change my clothes. Do I need to vomit again?”

“I think we managed to get as much out of you as we could,” said Finrod. “You need to shower and you need rest and I am going to see if we can give you some tea or at least a little honey for your throat. I will be right back; I need to look up the properties of what you took.”

While Finrod was gone, Amarië helped Edrahil out of his clothing and used a warm, damp cloth to wash his thigh, a victim of his loss of muscle control. “I never meant to hurt either of you,” he said as she wrapped a towel around his waist for modesty.

“Neither of us wanted to see you hurt like this,” said Amarië. “Finrod keeps asking you to come with us, but I am telling you what is going to happen. You are coming home with us tonight. We are going to continue our discussion. You are not going to be left alone tonight, no matter how much you tell us you are a bother, because you never have been. We love you, and we are going to take care of you. Not just tonight, either.” Amarië hugged Edrahil and said, “It would have saved all of us a little time if we had all been honest about everything, so I intend to do that from now on.” Just as her husband had before, Amarië kissed Edrahil. “Unless you have a very good reason not to come with us--but I certainly cannot think of one right now.”

Finrod returned with a jar and a spoon. “Just the honey. Tea might be too much, and what we really want is to heal your throat.” He measured out a spoonful and held it up. Edrahil did not need prompting to take his medicine. “Now, I know we cannot make you come with us, but--”

“Oh, no, I already took care of that. He is coming with us. Right, Edrahil?”

Edrahil nodded. “I am sorry I ruined your evening,” he said, voice trembling.

“I am sorry we did not see what was happening sooner,” said Finrod, whose emotions now caught up to the situation. He wiped a few tears from his eyes and said, “I would far prefer this experience to losing you, but I wish I had--I should have known sooner.” His voice cracked on the last few words, and he drew Edrahil into his arms and held him. “I do not know what I would do if I lost you again.”

Amarië wiped her own eyes and put her arms around both of them, holding them tightly for several minutes. “This place is drafty. I am taking over the decision making. We are going to gather Edrahil’s belongings, and we are going to go home.”

Edrahil straightened up. “I have to get some pants,” he said with a sniffle. 

“Let me help you,” offered Finrod. He aided Edrahil back to the office and assisted in finding him the clothing he needed. Amarië joined them shortly, and without direction, began to pack up anything that appeared to be Edrahil’s personal belongings. 

Within an hour, they were at the estate. A quick stop at a market with take away food provided Amarië and Finrod with a meal. Edrahil was worn out, and tucked in on the couch in the den so that a watch could be easily kept on him, and so that he was closest to a fire in the hearth. He slept through the night and much of the next day. It was late afternoon when he woke to find Amarië and Finrod, each sitting in their own chair. Amarië was reading and sipping from a glass of brandy; Finrod was knitting with his legs tucked up beneath him, but he dropped the needles and yarn into a basket as soon as Edrahil began to sit up.

Amarië moved to sit beside Edrahil while Finrod prepared a meal for them. The trio continued to sit in the den, for it was the easiest to warm on account of the small space and fireplace in the room. Edrahil barely nibbled on his food, which was only some soft bread with honey and weak tea, and was wrapped in a plush blanket. He and Amarië inhabited the couch, while Finrod sat at the desk (mostly on account of really wanting a surface for eating). Most of the questions were asked by Amarië; Edrahil answered some readily, and others he was most uncertain about.

“What exactly happened at the family gathering?” asked Amarië. “This seems like the sort of thing that should not just be thrown at someone in the middle of a group of people.”

“My wife...ex-wife...likes to be dramatic. It was always that way, from our first meeting. She had to have people there and stage it all.”

“Wait...how would she have staged a first meeting?” Amarië interrupted.

“As the son of the awakened, I was not given leave to marry who I desired. We were promised to one another before we met. Our parents wanted to keep pure bloodlines. I was desirable.” He picked at some of his bread, pulling the crust off of it. “She was not, but I made the best of it.”

“I just cannot imagine doing what she did to you in front of your entire family.”

“My family loves her. They adore her; they think she is perfect,” revealed Edrahil. “She aired everything to all of them, crying softly the whole time. Any time I tried to defend myself, I was hushed by my father. She revealed it all--what I did, what I did not do, that I abandon her to come to the school to teach, and even what happens every full moon, as if I have a choice in that matter,” said Edrahil bitterly in reference to the challenge both he and Finrod faced. While generally healed upon rebirth of that which killed them, there was the lingering effect of being bitten by the werewolves that not even the Valar had discovered a resolution for. “Then she told them that because I had not been a true husband, she was forced to seek comfort elsewhere. She had a lover, behind my back. No one questioned her fidelity--everything was my fault. My family...my ex-family, are all attending the wedding. They are choosing to keep the daughter they wanted and they are rejecting the son who is a failure.”

“You are not a failure, Edrahil,” said Finrod. 

“But you have a sister,” said Amarië.

Edrahil picked up a crust of bread but did not commit to eating it. “She likes my ex-wife, too. My brother seemed conflicted, but in the end, he sided with them. It was in his interest, anyhow--not that anything would ever happen here in Valinor, but if something did, he is their heir now. I am just a castaway nothing.”

“You are not nothing. I forbid you to say such things about yourself,” scolded Finrod. His voice was gentle, but it was obvious he hurt to hear Edrahil’s self-inflicted insults. “It is their loss.”

“You are truly--both of you--too kind.”

Amarië set her plate aside and put an arm around Edrahil while leaning closer to him. “I want you to know that what we said earlier was not simply a reaction to what was happening. True, had you not spoken to us of recent events, we would most likely have said nothing of our feelings on account of our deep friendship. We just want you to know that we can progress at whatever pace is best for you.”

Edrahil nodded. He ate a little of the bread. Then he asked, “Progress...what?”

“Ahh…” Amarië looked to Finrod.

“Ahhmm…” Finrod fiddled with his fork. “Progress with…” He squirmed in his chair, and then he mumbled, “Well, I did kiss you when we were in your office.”

“I kissed him, too,” Amarië said. “Not in the office. After...or, before… no, after. A lot happened.”

“Right. I know. I was there.” Edrahil looked down at the plate he was gripping with both hands. “It was very nice of you both.”

“I cannot speak for Amarië, of course, but I know that I have had other desires for a long time.” Finrod set his fork down. “I do not want to rush you, but at the same time, I am open to...if you need...uhm...you know...I mean, now that it is out in the open. Eventually. Perhaps.”

Edrahil took another moment, and then chewed at his lip. “Love comes in many forms.”

“Yes, it--oh. Oh-oh.” Amarië sat up and straightened out the wrinkled blanket. “Oh...I...I over--we overstepped.” Her cheeks were red.

At the desk, Finrod was covering his mouth with his hands. “I apologize,” he said quickly. “We should not have assumed.”

But Edrahil did not look angry or upset. “My wife and I never consummated our relationship. That is how we were, shall we say, allowed to divorce. We had very different ideas of what constituted intimacy. I fear that I can offer only a pure companionable love, for you have my devotion to you both. I feel that will be a disappointment to you.”

“No...not at all, my friend,” answered Finrod. 

“If I may?” Amarië cleared her throat. “Felagund and I played a game once--”

“Oh, do not tell him this.”

“--where we asked each other questions. One question he asked me was, if I had not married him, who would I have married? Of course, I gave him your name--how could I not? You are a beautiful person, Edrahil. And then, I asked the question of him, and can you guess how he answered?”

“Umm…” Edrahil began to ponder.

“You. I said your name.” Finrod scratched the side of his nose. “Love has never been about the outside for me, but what is within. Yes, I have preferences...as anyone does...but the spirit means more.”

“You were the one who got away, I think,” said Amarië. “If he had met you before he met me...well, I am the beneficiary of that chance.”

Edrahil transferred the plate to the desk and sat back to consider. He pulled at his bottom lip with his fingers. “The disagreement that my wife--I mean, ex-wife and I had was that she insisted that if we were to have relations, we were to do so only for the purpose of procreation. We were also to only bare ‘the necessities’ to complete such an act. I do not know what the two of you do--”

“Not that,” muttered Finrod under his breath.

“--but my desire included much less conventionality.”

The room fell silent. Edrahil stared down at his lap. Amarië studied Finrod. Finrod tapped the surface of the desk slowly. Then, he looked up and said, “We have this...device. Amarië uses it on me. There are some unconventional things I enjoy, too.”

“A few times, he used it on me, too,” said Amarië. “I am less fond of it, but sometimes I get in a mood for it.”

Edrahil nodded. There was a pause again. Then he asked, “What kind of device?”

“Umm…”

“Felagund, we really just need to state things in full,” realized Amarië.

“You brought it up,” accused Finrod.

“Is it a...sex thing?” guessed Edrahil.

“He is too precious for words--I am going to go get it.” Amarië was already standing up.

“Wait, we--hmm. Alright.” Finrod cleared his throat as Amarië left. He glanced at Edrahil. “Would you mind if I ask just what sort of unconventional thing you wanted to participate in?”

“Oh.” Edrahil looked down. “She told me it was stupid.”

“It is probably quite reasonable,” Finrod encouraged.

Edrahil tensed. “Well...what I wanted was to make love in front of a mirror. And I wanted us to be naked, like the Eldar, when they awakened. I mean, really, what I wanted was...this sounds stupid to say.”

“No...no, go ahead, Edrahil. A mirror sounds fun,” admitted Finrod, who was thankful that the desk masked the stirrings he was having.

“As you know, the awakened elves stayed in close quarters with one another, and they learned together. So when I read some of the stories written by those who would have the true history told, I realized that they were making love in front of one another. So that is what I suggested to her--an audience. Not a crowd, of course, just, someone. A small group, perhaps. And if not that, the mirror, so we could at least watch. It would feel like it. She said I was perverse. She told my family all of this and more. I was so ashamed,” he mumbled.

“Found it!” Amarië gleefully entered the room holding a double ended phallus. “This is a wonder. It lets me get the upper hand on Felagund,” she teased as she displayed it to Edrahil.

“I see.” Edrahil’s gaze lingered on the device. “So this is your preference for unconventional, Felagund.”

Finrod swallowed hard when Edrahil’s eyes were upon him and nodded his head. “Yes,” he said quietly. 

“And does my King have a desire to experience living flesh in this manner?” Edrahil took the device from Amarië’s hands. He held it carefully in one hand while using the other to run it along the smooth surface.

Finrod trembled. “It would, of course, depend on who provided such a royal gift.”

Edrahil now looked up at Amarië. “And would the Queen consider taking a lowly Knight if the Knight were to take the King?”

“This sounds like the best game of chess ever,” drawled Amarië. Both she and Edrahil set their sights upon Finrod. “What sayeth the King?”

A few calming breaths left Finrod. The desk was a blessing; without it, his answer would be obvious. “I will not deny that you offer to fulfill a desire I have long had, but I do so with caution from what occurred earlier.”

“You are right,” Edrahil said immediately as he handed the phallus back to Amarië. “This is not the time for this.” He pulled the blanket closer.

“I disagree,” said Amarië. “Felagund, look at how cold he is. That is not just the poison he took; we all know that it does not take sexual intercourse for someone to become ill or even to fade from a sundered bond. You may not have consummated in body, but from a spiritual side, you were devoted to her. You keep saying ‘wife’ because this hurts and you are in need of that stability, that bond. Maybe she would not think this is appropriate, but if this is something all of us want, then why pretend it is not, or convince ourselves it is not the right time or place? Elves live like there is always tomorrow. What would we do if tomorrow was not a certainty?”

Edrahil pulled at his lip again. “I would not be comfortable if we were not all comfortable.”

“Sure. Leave it to the prophet to make the decision.”

“It should be easy, then,” said Amarië. “You should already know the outcome. What does the future foretell?”

Finrod closed his eyes. “It is blessed, and it is hard. It is full of love and contentment, and we will find there is little need of others when we have each other. It is painful, and bittersweet, for we will lose friends, if ever they were that to begin with, but the hours we spend together will be a balm for those hurts.”

“That sounds like a yes to me,” said Amarië.

And so they found their way to the bedroom, with Amarië’s toy and a bottle of wine. The room was as imposing and one would expect the private chambers of an Elven-king to be. The ceiling vaulted; the headboard depicted a hunt. Wolf against serpent, with a massive golden wolf at the lead, jaws crushing the neck of the snake. Tapestries hung purposefully and told the tales of the First Age. 

As Edrahil stood looking over images of the crossing of the Helcaraxë, Amarië approached him from behind and slid her hands over his thighs. “I do not want to rush you, but I can feel your fëa. You hesitate with your heart and mind, and your body is uncertain, but your spirit is yearning. You have long wanted this.” She was taller than Edrahil, and it was easy for her to brush aside his hair and kiss his neck. “I can feel your desire,” she whispered as he closed his eyes, jaw slack. “The circumstances are not what you imagined, but could you ever allow yourself to imagine this? A week ago, I could never have dreamed this, yet… here we are.” She moved a hand back to his thigh and slid it around to see if her words affected him physically. He whimpered as she found her answer. “What she has cast away, we will covet and cherish. Felagund?”

At a distance, Finrod had been watching the scene with shy desire. He approached slowly, eyes locked with Edrahil when his eyelids fluttered open. “I only dreamed this might be real, but I never allowed myself the consideration it could be real.” His left hand brushed Edrahil’s cheek. “You have no idea how much I am restraining myself right now.”

Edrahil reached out to touch Finrod’s shoulder, testing reality himself. “Why are you restraining yourself?”

“He fears to rush and be consumed by the onslaught of emotions,” answered Amarië as Finrod leaned in to inhale the scent of Edrahil, his nose brushing the skin of Edrahil’s throat. He kissed and nipped under Edrahil’s chin, for Edrahil was leaning his head back now, eyes closed again. “He waits for your invitation.”

“I owe my life to you both,” said Edrahil. “I am in no position to dictate terms.”

Amarië wrapped a leg around Edrahil’s and caressed his calf with her foot. He was only wearing a sleeping robe and a loose loincloth, so her movements caused the robe to be pulled open wider, exposing his chest to Finrod, who took the invitation to place his palms against bare skin. Edrahil whimpered, and Amarië silently reminded Finrod that Edrahil was not used to such intimacies. “You would yield to your King?” she teased.

Edrahil flinched but looked back to Finrod and asked, “Is that the desire of my King?”

Finrod was fidgety, and kept looking to the floor. “I will unmask my desires if you promise to treat me gently.”

A quick look at Amarië over his shoulder gave Edrahil the confidence needed to continue the conversation. “Speak your mind, your majesty, for even should we become lovers, I shall always be thy humble servant. Thy will be done.”

Finrod blushed and nuzzled his cheek against Edrahil’s chest. He wrapped his arms around broad shoulders as Amarië gathered them both against her bosom. There was what Edrahil felt was an awkward moment of both closeness and disconnect. “As was said before, I desire the unconventional. It would please me to have you seat yourself upon the edge of the bed.”

Amarië’s foot was still sliding up and down Edrahil’s leg, and he could feel her breath against his neck between kisses. Before him, there was Finrod, both beautifully wanting and utterly terrified from the tremor in his voice. “If it...pleases you.”

Finrod groaned. “It would please me wholly and completely.”

Edrahil nodded and kissed Finrod reassuringly. Amarië took a step back to allow Edrahil leave to take his place. As Edrahil was about to sit, Finrod pulled him back up again to kiss him, further loosening the loincloth so that it fell to the floor as Finrod pushed Edrahil back down. Looming over him, Finrod looked to be sizing up the situation while Edrahil switched between looking at his own hands and glancing distractedly at the ornate headboard. 

Amarië approached and hugged Finrod from behind. “Why are you hesitating?”

“I fear to make a mistake.”

“Your only mistake is stalling.” Amarië turned Finrod’s head gently to kiss him before setting a hand on his shoulder to firmly push him down to kneel before Edrahil. Her fingers deftly pulled his hair back into a partial braid before she patted his back. 

Edrahil looked back to first see Amarië disrobing, and then to look down as he felt Finrod easing his legs apart. He fought to come up with something to say, but it proved unnecessary as Finrod bowed his head and experimentally drew the head of Edrahil’s partial erection into his mouth.

The unexpected speed at which Finrod began to hungrily take Edrahil deeper down his throat caused Edrahil to lose his balance slightly, and he leaned back and spread his arms out to catch himself amid his own gasps and the sudden jerks and thrusts of his own body which seemed out of his control. Amarië was soon behind him, helping to prop him back up as she slid the fabric down from his shoulders and pressed her now naked body to him. “His thoughts have been so impatient. I do not know why he felt he had to delay.”

Gladly Edrahil leaned back against Amarië for support, and soon found himself kissing her as Finrod massaged his inner thighs and sucked on him until he was unbearably hard. Edrahil was shaking, tears streaking from behind closed eyes. “Do you need a moment?” asked Amarië, and Finrod upon hearing this paused.

Edrahil shook his head. “Just...intense. More than I expected.” His face was red, and he avoided eye-contact. “I am trying to hold it, but I am not sure how long I can.”

“Honey, the point is not to hold it,” said Amarië as she teased her fingertips behind Edrahil’s ears.

“But if I spill it...I...I always thought it to be wrong. I am very confused right now,” he blurted out. One hand trembled and he used it to rub his forehead. “This is all new.”

“There is newness for us all tonight,” Amarië offered comfortingly. “I have a question for you. When you masturbate--” 

Edrahil looked at Amarië as if she had just informed him that Morgoth had succeeded Manwë as the Lord of Valinor.

“--and that answers that.” Amarië glanced down at Finrod, who was looking almost as nervous as Edrahil. 

“I think I could probably swallow it all,” offered Finrod.

Amarië’s expression did not reflect the same amount of confidence, and Edrahil squirmed a little. “Felagund, I think you need to hold that thought.” Amarië turned her attention back to Edrahil. She ran her hands down his arms and frowned at how chilly his flesh was. “Darling, if you had your druthers, which of us would you prefer to be beneath you as you found your release?”

“It seems cruel to choose,” admitted Edrahil. “I love you both.”

“And I think I can confidently say that you will eventually have us both,” said Amarië. “However, I expect your fortitude may not allow that tonight.”

“Yet, I am disinclined to pick; and how could I?” 

Before the debate could continue, Amarië looked down at Finrod. “You take less time to prepare.” She crawled from the bed and went to a cabinet. “Turn around and get on your hands and knees.”

Finrod blinked. “Wha--wait. What?”

“You desire this, and I know how quickly I can have you ready for him. It takes me longer. Not a matter of one over the other; a matter of practicality.” She returned with a clear bottle. “You heard him earlier. He can barely hold it.” Amarië tilted her head. “Why are you still wearing clothes?”

“Ahhmm...I have no idea what is going on right now,” Finrod said.

“Follow directions and you will find out. Clothes off, turn around, get on your hands and knees,” Amarië said firmly.

“We do not have to--” began Edrahil.

“He gets distracted when he wants something in his mouth,” Amarië said quickly. She looked back to Finrod, who was stripping his clothes off. “Edrahil is not comfortable finding release in your mouth, but both of you want him to experience the pleasures of having him buried deep inside of your body while you feel the warmth of him flow into you. This might be faster than you expected, but it is inevitable, and if he is willing to try such a new experience, it seems only fair you offer him what you already want. Bend over.”

The efficiency of Amarië’s preparation of Finrod spoke to the frequency of their ‘unconventional’ activities. Edrahil watched and stayed hard without the help of further stimulation. When Amarië was satisfied with her work, she stepped back and gave Finrod a swat on the rear. “He likes it when the thrusts are angled upwards a bit and you pull him towards you by his hips.”

“Noted,” said Edrahil as Finrod whimpered.

“He likes to have his hair pulled, too.”

Edrahil did not have to go far from the bed to reach Finrod. “Like this?” he asked as he tugged on the ends of Finrod’s hair.

“No, like this,” instructed Amarië. She slid her fingers between the strands at Finrod’s nape and gave a slightly sharper jerk that made her husband moan.

“I see.” Edrahil stood behind Finrod and assessed the position he was in. “This seems surreal.”

“Felagund, we need the talents of your tongue again.”

Obediently, Finrod turned back around. Still on his hands and knees, he nuzzled Edrahil’s groin and then took him into his mouth and suckled with vigor. Edrahil grunted and reached into the golden locks to experiment how best to appease Finrod’s desire without pulling him too far from his task. As he neared the point he had previously reached, he felt Amarië coax Finrod away and back into position with his rear positioned close. 

“He is ready. Are you?” asked Amarië.

Edrahil rubbed his hand over Finrod’s back. He made two frustrated attempts at finding the right way to enter. Amarië assisted in guiding him, and the third time Edrahil felt slight resistance to his penetration. A hand upon his back and Amarië’s encouraging words led Edrahil to push forward despite his concerns. Finrod arched and mewled beneath him, and pleaded for more even at the first intrusion. Edrahil found that while he knew what had been suggested, his fingers dug into the flesh of Finrod’s hips as he sunk in and tried a movement he hoped to be akin to a thrust.

“Here. Like this,” Amarië began to advise, but Finrod, following a groan, had a different reaction.

“Again! Please!”

Edrahil moved with more confidence, and again Finrod pleaded for more.

“That seems under control,” Amarië decided. She retrieved a pillow from the bed as Edrahil worked to perfect his thrusting, and came in front of Finrod. The pillow was dropped to the floor, and she used it to lift her hips as she wiggled her way under Finrod. Once satisfied with her own position, she guided his head down between her legs. 

Immediately, Finrod complied. He had to use his arms to keep his balance, so he was limited to his mouth and tongue to pleasure Amarië, who found that the unexpected gasps added unanticipated pleasures for her as Finrod delved his tongue between the moist folds of skin. Ages of marriage meant he knew precisely the way to trace his tongue around and around, and how far to delve before curling his appendage so that he could flick it rapidly, then draw the tip of his tongue up and down, adding to the dampness before he began the journey again. Amarië kept one arm behind her head to keep it from resting on the floor, but she took pity on her husband and used her other hand to widen her passage, and for this she was well rewarded by the talents of his tongue.

Meanwhile, Edrahil patiently worked through issues of technique. More than once he nearly slid out, and when he tried the suggestion Amarië had for him, it hurt, but he bit his lip to keep it from ruining the experience. He was not sure if he was supposed to to speak, so he said nothing. He was not even sure what he would say. Thinking about this made him nervous, and being nervous did nothing for his libido, and he struggled not to disappoint. He was also worn out from everything he had endured over the last few days, but tried not to let it affect the moment. 

He caught Amarië’s gaze at one point, or perhaps she sensed it, for she firmly pressed her hand against Finrod’s shoulder until he lifted his head away and she was able to crawl out from beneath him. “I think we should relocate to the bed. Then we will be in the right place for comfort in the end.”

Edrahil was grateful for the suggestion--almost too grateful for how swiftly he disengaged and retreated to the bed. Finrod frowned and followed with Amarië close behind in joining them under the sheets. “We are going too fast for you,” Finrod said. He snuggled up to Edrahil and his erection jutted against Edrahil’s leg. 

“Uh...yes. A little,” Edrahil answered. 

“We can stop for tonight,” suggested Amarië.

Edrahil put an arm around Finrod as Amarië curled up against Edrahil on the other side. “I need slower moments. I need time to process what is going on. But if your solution is to stop for now, I think I would be kept up thinking on it for the better part of the night.”

“We need breaks,” said Amarië.

“That might work,” Edrahil said.

“Enedrion, what if we--mmmnn, no, sorry,” Finrod belatedly realized. “Sorry,” he said again as he nuzzled Edrahil. “Edrahil. Sorry.”

“It will not be a habit easily broken. My parents were quite clear that I was not to call myself that any longer.” Edrahil kissed Finrod just at his temple. “What were you about to suggest?”

“All of us are teachers. What if Amarië and I offered instruction?”

Edrahil stayed quiet.

“Bad idea?” asked Finrod as he worried the sheet with his fingertips.

“Strange idea. Teach the grown man about sex. I get the general idea; I have lived long enough to know a wide array of variations.” Edrahil was to the point of chewing his lips raw, so he used them to kiss Finrod again instead. “Until you kissed me last night, the word ‘bisexual’ would not have been used as a self-identifier. Then I analyze that. Bi, half, so, half heterosexual, and I knew that. I knew that when I was first exploring the concept of a relationship of cohabitation with intimacy. But homosexual. Where did that even come from? When I admitted my feelings to both of you, I was not thinking about sex. And then...everything just happened now...and I am not saying I am against it. Clearly, I began engaging in something...I...I just need a moment. Words keep coming out of my mouth as if I know exactly where this is going, and I am in uncharted waters. I have a lot of thoughts.”

“I apologize. I think we both got a bit ahead, but I was certainly encouraging it, and I never clearly asked for your consent,” said Amarië. “Not that it is a way to excuse the behavior, but Felagund and I have sex a lot, especially in times like this when we are not at the school, when we limit most of our activities because of the children.”

“Sometimes we fuck right in the carriage on the way here,” admitted Finrod.

“I see. I did not mean to interrupt your tradition.”

“Oh, sweetie, you did nothing of the sort!” assured Amarië as she wound her arms around Edrahil to comfort him. “We would much rather have you here with us. Wait--are you laughing?” she accused.

“Just imagining all those times I waved as the two of you were riding away from the grounds, and I find out you were probably just waiting until I was in the distance before mounting each other. I am understanding that correctly?” Edrahil questioned as he looked over his shoulder at Amarië. “You take turns or something?”

“We flip a coin,” said Finrod with a wink.

Amarië snorted. “Yes, we both ride each other, but I think I overwhelmingly get the upper hand on him.”

“I let her.” Finrod reached for one of Amarië’s hands and kissed it from her thumb to nearly her elbow before relinquishing his hold. “I very gladly find myself at her mischievous mercy.”

“I have an idea,” said Amarië. “What if Finrod and I resume our activities, and if you feel you would like to join us, whenever you are ready, you can do that. And if you need us to stop, or if you do not want us to do that, whenever that is, we can all resume cuddling.”

“If we get to cuddling before I--”

“Yes, you should go take care of it elsewhere and come back,” agreed Amarië. She massaged Edrahil’s shoulders. “What do you think of that?”

“If you need or want to touch yourself, this is your house. You can do it here; you can do it in front of me. Yes, Amarië, I think your idea is fine. I cannot promise I will, ah, jump in this time, but I think I may have an interest in the future. I have already said it; this is a bit overwhelming. I had no expectation of being alive right now, and I certainly had no thoughts of being...well, this alive,” settled Edrahil.

“We like you alive,” said Finrod very seriously, despite the fact that his firm erection was digging into Edrahil’s thigh.

Unsure of how to answer, and distracted by Finrod’s arousal, Edrahil turned the conversation to that very topic. “How can you possibly get so hard when all we are doing is talking?” Edrahil shifted a little, intending to give Finrod space, but it only served to stimulate him.

“Mmm...I am in bed with the two most beautiful people in my life. Besides my son, but that, no, you know what I mean. You can ask Amarië; I have had daydreams and regular dreams and random passing fancies about this scenario, and it is so much nicer than I imagined, except for the specifics on how it happened.”

Whether intentional or not, Finrod was rocking his body against Edrahil slightly and his pupils were dilated. Edrahil brushed his fingers against Finrod’s cheek. “You are truly hoping that I join the two of you. I can see it in your eyes.”

“I do not want to pressure you, but I cannot lie to you, either.” Finrod realized just how close he had gotten, how his leg was hooked around Edrahil, how he was nearly grinding against his hip, and he backed off. “Yes. As soon as you are ready, I am ready. Day, night, middle of the afternoon. But, please, take your time, dammit, I promised myself not to be so aggressive.”

“I have a very horny husband,” replied Amarië flatly. 

“But you also enjoy these activities,” clarified Edrahil. With Finrod further away, he was able to turn onto his side and face Amarië. “You seem...a little less needy.”

“Make no mistake, I also desire your intimate companionship. Unlike Felagund, I can keep better control of myself,” she said. “Being this close to you is causing certain stirrings, but Felagund tends to be more obvious.”

Edrahil took a moment to gently caress Amarië’s face the way he had done with Finrod before he asked of Felagund, “How did you possibly survive in Middle-earth?”

“For starters, all of those times I sprained my wrist?”

“Yes?”

“Not unfortunate harp accidents.”

“I hate to ask--”

“Sticking things I should not have into questionable places. Well. Just the one place,” Finrod trailed off.

“Before this becomes Felagund’s list of what not to do when visiting Dwarves, which is both amusing and cringeworthy, I am going to relocate myself,” explained Amarië as she slid out of one side of the bed and walked around to the other side. “And, Edrahil, you are in control. I am not going to engage with Finrod unless you state that we should, and if you tell us to stop, we will, and if you want to join in, you decide how. As you have by now guessed, we are both very open to just about anything.”

“I believe you should not keep him waiting,” said Edrahil from the small distance between himself and the other two. “It seems cruel at this point. Before you do, though...I just want to tell you how much I have appreciated being part of your lives, and being able to see such a loving relationship thrive. I know part of why I kept trying to sort things out with my wife was because of what I saw in the two of you, and I kept thinking I just had to try harder, and then I thought, maybe I was not trying hard enough, and I will probably think that now and then, but now, in these last few hours we have spent together, I see that I have the opportunity for a path in life that I...forbidden sounds ominous, but those are my best thoughts right now. You are both so good and kind and I need to just stop talking because Felagund is trying his best to be patient, but I can tell he is...well..” The tented sheet said it all. “Thank you, both, and I love you, no matter where this path takes us.”

“That was very sweet, Edrahil,” said Amarië. She leaned over Finrod and softly kissed Edrahil’s lips.

“Yes. Edrahil is very sweet. Sweet like sugar. Sugary sweet baby.” Finrod kissed Edrahil’s arm. “Sweet Sugarbaby,” babbled Finrod.

Amarië sat back down and gave Finrod an odd look. “Sugarbaby?”

“It sounded better in my head,” pouted Finrod.

Edrahil was blushing, but he managed to accept the compliment. “I never actually had anyone use a pet name for me. I kind of like it.”

“Nothing? Your wife never called you ‘honey’ or ‘dearest’?” asked Amarië.

Edrahil shook his head. “She thought it was childish.”

“Well. We will need to show you just how not childish it is when Felagund is bent over with his ass up high moaning for his Sugarbaby,” drawled Amarië.

“Oh...I want that,” Finrod unashamedly admitted.

“I know what else you want.” Amarië crawled over on top of Finrod to kiss him, and then rolled them over. This served to place him on top, and to give Edrahil a little more distance in case he needed it. “And I know what I want.” She placed her hand on the top of his head and pushed him under the covers. A moment later, she flung the sheets aside to expose her husband returning to his previous task. He hummed as he flicked and swirled his tongue, and she spread her legs wider and guided his head where she wanted him to be.

Watching the stimulation was arousing to Edrahil. The conversation had so quickly moved from their discussion to cunnilingus that Edrahil was still going over the words spoken between the trio when he felt the awakening of his own erection. Whether cultural, spiritual, or some other deeply seeded belief, his initial reaction was one he knew he would have to share with Amarië and Finrod sooner rather than later. It was a churning in his gut, a painful burst in his mind, and the feeling that all eyes were upon him. It was shame. He sucked in a breath; it went unnoticed. He composed himself. His body relaxed, and he watched his two greatest friends in all the world as they came together with abandon. There seemed a good chance that even with an audience, they would not so much as flinch.

This secret desire, spoken to them earlier, flopped around in Edrahil’s mind. So much had been revealed to them, and yet there was more to say. There was more he needed to learn about himself, and more to come to terms with. In the moment, however, he scooped up one of the unneeded pillows and clung to it while he watched Finrod hungrily lick and slurp and nibble, and Amarië, so dextrous, used her feet and legs in so many ways that it left Edrahil in awe--and wondering what he might need to do to experience it himself. ‘Only ask,’ he reminded himself, but he kept silent, watching, waiting, until, despite what was probably their best effort, Amarië thrust her hips up repeatedly and Finrod buried his face between her legs while he reached between his own. 

Edrahil felt he was to say something first as Finrod crawled up and was cradled by Amarië as they both panted in the aftermath, but everything sounded wrong. He toyed with ‘I have great hope for our future’, but it sounded like a political slogan. ‘You are both so beautiful’ sounded redundant, and ‘I love you’ seemed strange, for they knew that, and yet here he was, half a meter from them, clinging to a pillow.

“Sorry,” blurted out Finrod. “We tried to hold out--”

“No! No, no, that was fine. I told you, just go ahead, pay no attention to me,” said Edrahil quickly.

“We do want to pay attention to you, hon, we just...no rush. Take your time,” assured Amarië as she extracted herself from Finrod and extended her arms to snuggle with Edrahil, and his pillow.

It was Finrod who took the initiative to tidy up, and he even went to bathe before returning to bed. Amarië had drifted off to sleep in that time, and Finrod decided to join his wife and Edrahil only after fussing with a few things in the room, such as setting out clothing for the next day and changing out a few candles which had burned low. “Is there anything I can offer you before I likely fall asleep?” asked Finrod as he arranged multiple pillows for himself.

“No thank you, my stomach is still tender from the other day. There is water here if I need it,” answered Edrahil.

The look they exchanged made it clear that Finrod was not referring to food, and that Edrahil knew damn well that what he pretended to think was the intent was most certainly not, but neither discussed it further. Finrod kissed Amarië’s cheek, she made a disgruntled sleepy noise, he gave a peck to Edrahil’s cheek as well, and then curled up and promptly began dreaming. 

Edrahil tried to stay very still. Amarië was still somewhat in his arms, though her weight on him meant his left arm was sometimes tingling and sometimes sore. Finrod snored. Edrahil knew this, but it had been ages since he had experienced it so close. All of this along with his thoughts kept him wide awake. He thought about extracting himself, but something about being with Amarië and Finrod made him feel safer than leaving them. 

He worked to sort out his desires, his fears, his morals, and his needs. Every time he felt he had a solid plan, a nagging ‘what if’ would creep up and he would have to start over again. When Amarië turned in her sleep so that she rolled off of Edrahil, he felt a need to get close to her again. As he watched her nuzzle in her sleep against Finrod, Edrahil pulled back. He bit at his lip before he tentatively edged closer. 

It was not enough to touch, but it did cause the mattress to shift ever so, and Finrod stirred. He smiled at Edrahil and beckoned him closer with a slight gesture with his hand. 

Edrahil stayed where he was. Finrod frowned, but tired to lighten the mood by saying, “Now you know where Gildor gets it from.”

Such a comment could not help but cause Edrahil to chuckle. Amarië stretched a little as her eyes fluttered open. “Are we having fun without me?”

“Never, my dear,” said Finrod. And Edrahil was still laughing, so Finrod had to quip, “Well, it was not that funny.”

“No, not that. If you are going to call me Sugarbaby--”

“And I am,” said Finrod with confidence.

“--I just thought of what I could call you.”

“Oh?” Amarië sat up grinning. “Tell me first!” she demanded, and she leaned in to hear the perceived secret. Edrahil whispered to her and she squeaked. “Very good,” she complimented.

“Do I get to know, or will it be a secret word I never learn and the two of you laugh about behind my back?” asked Finrod.

“Passionfruit,” said Edrahil.

Finrod smirked and clapped his hands together twice. “Well done,” he commended. “You should tell him what I call you,” he coaxed Amarië.

“You tell him.” She winked.

“I call her Honeylips, because she is sweet on both ends,” Finrod said. He was upright now, too, kissing and nuzzling Amarië’s neck and upper back. 

Edrahil was propped up on his side watching them, and he rubbed his own lips, raw from his worries. “I have a request.”

“Anything,” answered Finrod.

“For Amarië,” he clarified.

“Same answer,” she replied.

Edrahil pulled a pillow into his arms again and turned onto his back, staring up at the ornate headboard behind them in the moonlight that peeked through the curtains. “This is probably going to sound ridiculous, but I think it would help me if you gave me permission to do this. See, all my life, with the exception of the brief time in Middle-earth, there was always a strong female telling me what to do. In the beginning, it was my mother, and my sister, and after I married, my wife and my mother-in-law joined in. There were very few times I went against their wishes. Children, for example--that was why I never sex. When everyone tells you that you only get to do that if you are going to have children, and you do not want children, it can lead to a celibate life. When I returned from Middle-earth--which, I ran away, you understand. That was my one attempt to leave the situation I was in. I made the excuse that eventually everyone would be returning across the sea, and I left. And when I came back, I listened to so much ‘you were wrong’ and ‘I told you so’ that I did not disobey her directives, with two exceptions. I came to work at the school, and I still did not want children. I did everything else she told me to do, and if not her, then my mother, or my sister, or someone else in a dominant role. I really missed the years we spent in Middle-earth, when you were King,” said Edrahil as he looked longingly at Finrod.

“What do you want me to say?” asked Amarië.

“That is the problem, I suppose. I do not have a clear idea of what will help. I just suspect that is part of my worry. I know, logically, that you think the three of us together is good, but...I do not know what I am even asking for,” he admitted.

Amarië stretched and straightened up. The covers fell from her shoulder so that she was bared to him to her waist. He tried to maintain eye contact as she spoke, but his gaze repeatedly wandered to her breasts. “Edrahil, we both love you very much. You have been a part of our family for a long time. Had we known some of the things we have learned, we would have tried to rescue you from that situation a long time ago. We thought you were happy--but we know you can be happy here. Right, Felagund?” Amarië turned her head to see that Edrahil was not the only one who was distracted. She snapped her fingers twice until they both looked up. “Right, Felagund.”

“Whatever you say.” He cleared his throat. “What was the question?”

Amarië looked back to Edrahil. “You not only have my permission to engage in romance, sexual and sensual exploration, and domestic endeavors with my husband and myself, you have my encouragement to do so. You are confused because someone lied to you. Intimacies bring us together. Yes, they can lead to having children, but they can also strengthen a loving bond. It relieves stress, and I once read a book on how sex is thought to lead to better health, both physical and mental.”

“Really?”

It was Finrod who sounded perplexed, and Amarië nodded, though she kept watch on Edrahil. “Think about how good it feels to kiss. Think about how much nicer it feels to kiss when bodies are joined.”

“Although,” interrupted Finrod, “it is not necessarily true for everyone.”

“Felagund, you are ruining the moment.”

“I am just...being responsible and pointing that out! You know how my cousin is,” he reminded her. He looked at Edrahil. “I have a cousin, who, well, intimacy can be complicated for him.”

“You also have a lot of cousins,” pointed out Edrahil.

“Findekáno,” clarified Finrod.

“Ah. I would have guessed Turgon.”

“Oh, Turgon is his own special, but we should skip that subject for now. It will ruin the mood,” Amarië said. She reached out to stroke Edrahil’s cheek. “Is there something you would like to do right now?”

“Ohhh…” Edrahil sighed and clutched the pillow. “I keep thinking to the brief time that the three of us spent on the floor, and how I felt when I was penetrating Felagund, and how I wish I might have seen his face, and how I might like to try that with you, and who can sleep thinking about that?”

“Who indeed. Stipulations. Inserting yourself into him means you need to wash meticulously before you enter me. I read a lot of health books, and you being a healer should know that already,” she informed him. “If you want to play with him, though, he already had an erection when you said ‘penetrating’, so I think it safe to say he would oblige. He likes things up his ass and in his mouth; I am not as interested in those things as he is.”

“Honestly, I am not sure I would want those things, either,” said Edrahil.

“More for me,” Finrod said as he conspiratorially rubbed his hands together.

“Alright, Felagund,” directed Amarië. “On your back.”

“Excuse me?”

“I think Edrahil would like an opportunity to finish what was started, and he wants to see you. Not your back, not your hair--both of which are beautiful, but he is more interested in seeing you.”

“Oh. I can...I can do that. On my back?”

“Yes,” said Amarië firmly.

“Unless you do not want to,” Edrahil quickly said.

Finrod leaned down and kissed Edrahil. “I already told you earlier, I would do anything for you. Or maybe it was just that I would answer any questions. The point is, this is different, this is new--”

“Oh, Amarië always took you from behind?”

“...yes.” Finrod shrugged. “You are not the only one with strange experiences and life issues that cause some trouble with...self-acceptance. I witnessed what Findekáno and Russandol went through prior to my marriage and after it. Amarië and I have spoken about it a lot. Homosexuality has carried a stigma for some members of my family. I kept it a secret from them by keeping it a secret to myself. I suppose not...facing it, myself, my feelings, I did all I could to raise my son to have an environment free of that, or as free as I could provide.”

“You did an excellent job of raising Gildor,” said Edrahil. “I am...confused, though. You kept...what secret? You and Amarië have been together as long as I have known you. You have a son and…” Edrahil paused when Amarië touched his wrist.

“We have a very different relationship, and these are things you were not told, not because we did not trust you, and not because we did not love you, but simply because they were things we shared with no one, and, they are things it took us a while to understand about ourselves.” Amarië placed her palm upon her chest. “I have always been a lady to you.”

“Yeeeessss.” Edrahil sat up but continued to clutch the pillow.

“Inside,” she said, patting her hand to her breast, “there has always been conflict. Remember how I was always spending my time with you and Fëanor and Erestor and Mahtan, and just, not interested in all of the things at Sarati that some of the teachers would say ‘well, sure you want to learn this’. But, it goes beyond that. It is a conflict of spirit. I always felt like more than one person inside, but that was not something I could tell other people, and I especially could not tell other people that the other side of me was not this, that the other side was completely different. He is completely different, and yet, is also me. It would be blasphemy to some, though. I know there are members of our family who have questioned our religious choices, or lack thereof, but the truth is, I agree with most of it. I am just not going to listen to someone make comments about how the way we are is wrong and sinful. I did not ‘decide’ to be this. I am this, and Eru made me this way, and...He made Felagund how he is.”

Finrod, who had been very quiet with his hands folded together, said softly, “I am a homosexual.” He held up two fingers as his eyes watered. “You are only the second person I ever said that to.”

Edrahil blinked. “So...you never told your son?”

Finrod wiped his eyes and shook his head.

“I do not think I understand everything entirely, but I think I understand enough to feel...better,” Edrahil decided. “I spent the last few hours worrying that I was going to be an intrusion into a perfect relationship. I still think you have a perfect relationship, or at least, as close to perfect as anyone can come, but at least now I feel...more like I might be able to find a place. If that makes sense.”

“Perfectly,” said Amarië. Finrod, who had just finished wiping his eyes, just nodded.

Edrahil abandoned the pillow and scootched closer to both of them. He kissed Amarië first, much deeper than he had at any previous time, and even grazed her bottom lip with his teeth. “Thank you. Your words were exactly what I needed.”

He then turned his gaze to Finrod. “My King,” he said with reverence.

Finrod smiled and nodded.

Edrahil shifted closer and wobbled a little as he fought to keep his balance as he walked on his knees. Finally, he was able to pull Finrod closer, both hands on his rear, kneading and spreading him suggestively. “If it would please his majesty, I wish to make love to him this night.”

“Oh, it would please his majesty so very much,” answered Finrod just before Edrahil captured a lingering kiss. 

“If his majesty would prefer, he may...choose the royal position on his hands and knees rather than recline,” said Edrahil.

“On my back, as you wish it,” decided Finrod. “I am ready for this,” he said. 

“You are certain?” asked Edrahil as his heart pounded in his ears. Finrod nodded.

“I know what to do for a mirror!” Amarië bounded from the bed and returned soon after with the dressing mirror from the wall, which she propped against a chair. “I shall be your audience,” she told them as she lounged on the bed where Edrahil previously had been.

“I need to prepare myself again,” Finrod said nervously.

Edrahil guided him onto his back and kissed his chin. “I can do that for you. Where do you keep something for lubricant?”

“Open that second drawer,” directed Amarië as she pointed to the nightstand. Edrahil did as he was told. “Any of the brown bottles. Not the green one. Green one is just liquor.”

“Actually, would you mind handing me the green one?” asked Finrod. Edrahil retrieved it for him first, and after a swig and an offer to the others which was turned down, Finrod handed the bottle back. “Alright. Here we go.”

Edrahil exchanged the green bottle for one of the fuller looking brown ones. “Please keep in mind, almost all of my knowledge if theoretical. If I do something wrong, please correct me.”

“Stimulate him before you use the oil. He needs to relax, or you are going to be forcing your fingers in,” advised Amarië. “Fear not,” she said as Edrahil looked momentarily panicked. “I have done this so many times, I could walk you through it in my sleep. Except, I would want to see this, so I am glad I am not sleeping through it.” To Finrod she asked, “Do you want this tucked under your hips?” She held up the pillow Edrahil had been coveting earlier. He nodded, and she helped him to maneuver it in place. “Here. Let me hold this, and I will hand it back when you are ready.” Amarië took the bottle from Edrahil and sprawled back on the other side of the bed. She uncorked the bottle and sniffed it. “Mmm...jasmine, I think. Very nice.”

Edrahil sat on his haunches looking at Finrod’s body before him. He appeared fully erect, and Edrahil tried to decide where to place his hand. He hovered over the length of the shaft, then contemplated the tip. Amarië reached over and guided his hand to the base, where the flesh proudly protruded from a nest of gold. Edrahil wrapped his fingers around it and gave a small squeeze. Finrod arched and whimpered, and Edrahil started to withdraw, but then the cry of, “Please, more, please!” brought Edrahil’s hand back again. 

It was warm, firm within, and yet pliant to the touch. Edrahil went from a basic squeeze to more of a pull along the shaft per Amarië’s instruction, and extending his thumb to reach the head while his hand encircled the middle. Curiosity brought him to compare, and he used his other hand to experiment with his own body. Once his own erection was unmistakable, Amarië thrust the bottle at him. “Start with one finger. He is going to beg you for more, but you will need to be patient on his behalf.”

Begging hardly summarized accurately the sounds coming from Finrod. Edrahil had heard the term ‘bedroom eyes’ before, but seeing the burning desire directed towards him was a completely different experience. “I need you...please...I want this so much.” Similar phrases tumbled from Finrod’s lips every time Edrahil touched him. Amarië was lending a hand with the situation--she was pressed up against Edrahil’s back, and managed the bottle of oil with one hand while the other was used to keep Edrahil’s length stiff (not that he was in need of too much assistance with the way Finrod was acting, but it was enjoyable to hear her whisper stories of previous exploits the pair had engaged in, and promises of what Amarië was going to do with Edrahil in the future).

Amarië kissed behind Edrahil’s ear and poured some of the oil over his erection before she removed herself back to the other side of the bed. “Your King calls for you,” she said as Finrod began to beg again.

With his hips lifted and legs parted, Finrod was easier to enter this time. It also helped that Edrahil was much harder than he had been when they tried earlier, and that he was not as nervous as he had been. The oil was extremely helpful. There was still some resistance, but it was minimal, and he was encouraged to press in deep by Finrod’s plea for him to do exactly that.

Edrahil tried a few shallow thrusts, which felt very nice and seemed to have a similar effect on Finrod. After a few minutes, Edrahil found a comfortable rhythm and his jerky thrusts turned into slow rolls of his hips. Finrod alternated between grunts and purrs. Amarië continued to offer encouragement, but also bantered with Finrod in erotic exchanges. It seemed a bit of a warm up to her engaging with Edrahil. “So...when we fuck, are you going to take me the same way?”

Caught off-guard, Edrahil answered with a belated, “Uh...whatever you want.”

“I want a kiss,” stated Finrod. He stretched his arm up towards Edrahil. “Come down here with me.”

A kiss seemed harmless enough. Edrahil began to lower himself, but as he did so, the position changed a bit. It was not uncomfortable, just intense. Edrahil tried to straighten back up, but Finrod’s hand was behind his neck and pulled him down. Kisses were exchanged amid gasps and whimpers. “Stay here,” begged Finrod. “Stay here. Fuck me, but hold me. Please.”

Edrahil managed to get an arm behind Finrod. As they kissed in intense and borderline dangerous ways, Edrahil possessively took hold of Finrod’s hip. They were too close for Edrahil to pull back and plunge in but he was able to rock his body and create frequent jolts of pleasure for both of them. Finrod’s needful words indicated he was close to release, but Edrahil was certain he was closer. One of Amarië’s tips reminded him of a way to level the field. Edrahil moved the arm behind Finrod so that he could get hold of the hair at the nape of his neck. 

Pulling back Finrod’s head exposed his neck, and Edrahil took full advantage. He latched onto Finrod’s throat with his mouth. He could feel the quickening pulse, and he moved his body in what he felt was frantic humping until he heard Finrod calling out to him. It was not Edrahil, nor was it Enedrion (though, that might not have mattered much in that moment). It was neither of these. The words Edrahil heard that put him over the edge were, “Oh, yes, Sugarbaby, yes, yes!”

How the accidental pet name could cause Edrahil to ram into Finrod several times until they were both spilling seed he would never know. Edrahil looked down as Finrod let out a low groan. There was a very noticeable welt on Finrod’s throat. He gave another couple quick, deep thrusts, each of them causing Finrod to arch back and gasp. Then he collapsed, somewhat aware that they were not physically connected, and he held onto Finrod tightly.

After several minutes of kissing and nuzzling, Edrahil felt the dip in the bed as Amarië joined them. “You are probably exhausted,” she opened with as she kissed along the side of Edrahil’s neck, “but I offer you a chance for additional pleasure and a true new beginning.”

Edrahil slowly rolled off of Finrod and onto the empty space. Amarië stroked her fingers over Finrod’s chest and kissed behind his ear while they watched Edrahil regain his bearings. “What does my Queen suggest?” asked Edrahil.

Amarië said nothing as she smiled and crawled over Finrod, who reached up to rub her bottom as she approached Edrahil. He was still recovering from making love to Finrod, and his chest continued to rise and fall more rapidly as Amarië, armed with a cloth, draped it over Edrahil’s crotch before she settled down over him. “You seem to have expended yourself, but not entirely. And you are fascinated by a woman who does not have strong maternal instincts, who would allow you--encourage you,” she corrected, “to just have sex for the sake of pure enjoyment, not procreation.”

“It is appealing, I admit, but only because it is you,” said Edrahil.

She hummed, lids drooping, and leaned in to kiss him, her hands on his shoulders, fingers kneading with desire. Her tongue slid between his lips, and as they kissed deeply, Finrod offered additional stimulation, one hand managing to snake behind Edrahil’s neck to massage away the remaining tension while the thumb of his other hand flicked over Amarië’s nearest nipple. When the cloth began to slide off on account of Edrahil’s renewed interest, Amarië directed him to go to wash. “Clean yourself thoroughly, then come back to me, love.”

Intoxicated by words and warmth, Edrahil took the cloth with him, covering himself for some unknown reason of modesty. He located the soap, water, and clean towels and began to wash in earnest. His nervousness in cleaning himself up made him limp again, but he knew as well as Amarië that it was important to make sure he had fully sanitized anything that might come in contact. Hands, groin, thighs--every time he thought of something else, he started over entirely. Soft footfalls alerted him to company, and it was Finrod who entered.

Without a word, Finrod meshed his body against Edrahil from behind, first giving him a pleasant hug, his cheek pressed against Edrahil’s shoulder. “Sugarbaby,” he whispered, and Edrahil shivered a little when Finrod kissed his neck. Then, Finrod reached around and took the soap, and carefully and thoroughly sudsed up the flaccid member until it began to harden again. Warm water was used to rinse Edrahil, and then Finrod patted him dry with one of the towels, carefully handling Edrahil as he completed his task. From a shelf in the room, Finrod took a bottle of green-tinted liquid. He gargled with it, and after spitting into the basin, eased Edrahil to turn. Finrod dropped down on one knee, and while he looked up at Edrahil, he kissed the tip of his penis until the hard erection returned. Then Finrod guided Edrahil back to the bed, and once Edrahil was supine, Amarië was looking down at him.

“Is my Queen pleased?” asked Edrahil as he stretched an arm up and carded his fingers through her golden tresses.

“She intends to be.” Amarië reached down to take hold of Edrahil in order to guide him into her. Edrahil settled his hands on her hips but left the pace to her. She tested the waters, lowering slightly then rising up several times. Edrahil tried to stay still and silent, but eventually he groaned, and immediately opened his mouth to apologize. Before he could, Amarië had his mouth covered with her own. “If you are enjoying yourself, let us know. Release your feral side. Nothing you do here will leave this room. You are safe here.”

“My feral side…” Edrahil glanced at Finrod. “Is that what we call it?”

“It does make lycanthropy sound romantic,” said Finrod. 

“It does not bother me. I know it is part of who you are; it is part of who Felagund is.” Amarië lowered herself again without warning, and this time Edrahil groaned openly, a sound coming from deep in his throat. This time, Amarië moved until she had taken in all of Edrahil, both of them grunting and beginning to lose themselves to the passion they were feeling.

“Sometimes, I even howl when she takes me like a dog. Like a wolf,” corrected Finrod. He had seemed content to watch at first, but as Amarië increased her pace, Finrod moved closer. With some maneuvering, he managed to get one of his legs between theirs, over Edrahil and under Amarië, and rubbed up against Edrahil’s hip.

“Will you howl for me, Felagund? The next time? Shall I take you as she does?” Edrahil’s words had the anticipated effect of causing Finrod to spill himself. “Will you howl for me then?”

“Oh, Sugarbaby,” Finrod whispered. “Just command me, and I will howl for you.”

Edrahil was able to return his full attention to Amarië, who had been watching with amusement but was grinding with passion and fury. Having seen what Finrod did earlier, Edrahil reached up and cupped Amarië’s breasts, then used his thumbs to roll the nubs until they hardened. Then he curled his body up and took one in his mouth to suckle while continuing to roll the other between his thumb and finger to keep it hard. Amarië teasingly pulled back a little, making Edrahil chase slowly. It also brought her up into more of a seated position, bringing him deeper within. Back and forth, Edrahil sucked and flicked his tongue, until his back protested and he flopped back down. 

Amarië straighted up completely, tossing her golden waves over his shoulder. Eyes were closed as she hummed and used the strength in her thighs and pelvis to squeeze her muscles around Edrahil’s cock. He did not know if what came out of him was quite a howl, but is felt good, so he did it again as Amarië rocked against his body, perched above him, short gasps and mumbled words coming from her lips. Edrahil remembered that his hands were clean, and he could see the golden curls mingling with his dark hair. Experimentally, Edrahil reached between them and rubbed his thumb in a circle. Amarië squeezed harder and cried out; Edrahil switched to two fingers and palpated them within the folds of skin between the appealing golden hairs that he had a desire to nuzzle and the point where he was present within her. This made her use her legs to lift away, only to lower back down with a grunt. Recalling the mirror, Edrahil turned his head and groaned when he caught Finrod’s reflection, and Edrahil realized that he had sodomized one of his best friends, was fucking the other, and that this was just the first of many such intimate actiities that the three of them would engage in. Edrahil increased his pace; Amarië matched it, and soon they both climaxed in a chaotic combination of noises that almost certainly included a howl this time.

Once again, Finrod took the lead in cleaning up the aftermath. After many shared kisses and the tangling of limbs, the three, with Edrahil in the middle, rested quietly and comfortably. Only Finrod still seemed to have energy; a single hand alternated between each of his partners, offering soothing touches over arms and torsos. “I just realized we need to be up early tomorrow. Gildor and Maedhros are going on vacation, and I told them I would watch the grandpets. I am supposed to go over what they currently have, where they are, and what to feed them while they are gone.”

“Oh, my,” offered Amarië with a yawn. “Are the dogs staying with us?”

“That was my plan,” said Finrod.

Edrahil, unsure whether or not to offer, finally spoke up. “I could come with you. We, uh...we might want to tell your son what is going on before he finds out from a rumor. Or just starts to suspect based on our living arrangements.”

“I should tell him,” agreed Finrod. “I should tell him...a lot of things. I should probably go a little early.”

“Earlier than early?” groaned Amarië. She snuggled closer to Edrahil. “I suppose if the two of you can get up, I can suffer, too. And I should be there if you are going to talk to him about us.”

“I guess we should sleep,” said Finrod.

It was silent for all of three seconds. “Or, since it is so late already,” spoke up Amarië, “we could try another combination, stay up, go over early, and then come back and nap.”

“I am honestly unsure if I could sleep right now,” admitted Edrahil.

“I will get the toys!” announced Finrod excitedly.

Edrahil turned to Amarië. “The toys?”

“If you are not quite awake, you soon will be,” promised Amarië with a hint of excitement in her eyes.

Edrahil sat up to watch Finrod open a wooden box, unseen until now. His eyes widened. “This seems like a far better reason for staying up all night than grading papers.”

“You have no idea,” Amarië told him teasingly.


End file.
